“Jenny?” Joe asked.
“Jenny Holmes. She isn’t sick. She volunteered to help so we let her. How’d Stamford go?”
“Excellent.” Joe fiddled with the radio as he sat next to Robbie. “There’s a doctor there. He said he’s coming today.”
“No shit.” Robbie was surprised. “You think he will?”
“He sounded sincere enough. I think me telling him about Ellen working with people and her kids dying got to him.” Joe shrugged. “But, he’s coming. As soon as I see if this works, I’m heading over to check on Kelly. Have you heard from her?”
“No.” Robbie answered. “But we have been busy. There are seven hundred and fifty-three, last count.”
“Dear God.” Joe looked to his son. “I’ll head over then. Wanna come?”
“I think I will. It’ll break the bad momentum of this for me.”
“Works.” Joe switched it back off and stood up. “Ready?”
“Yep. Hey, Dad? Did you get our people situated?”
“I left them there. I didn’t have the time.” Joe jingled his keys.
“How about Pete? Did you just leave him there too?”
“No. Pete didn’t make it to Stamford. He started that convulsing shit and spitting up blood. I couldn’t control him and the truck. I pulled over.”
Robbie slid in his chair to look up to his father. “What do you mean ‘pulled over’?”
“I had to do it, Robbie and don’t tell Ellen. I had to shoot him. He was bad.”
Robbie smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Joe smacked him lightly upside the head. “You think I did that for you? Now are you coming or not?”
“Yep.” Robbie stood up, rubbing his head. “Can I run up and tell Ellen I’m leaving.”
“Make it fast.”
Robbie did. Thumping his feet as he ran, he charged up the steps. “El?” He opened her bedroom door. She sat in the chair next to her double bed where her two children lay. Her hands were folded on the bed as her head rested there.
“Hi.” She lifted up and looked at Robbie.
“How are they?” Robbie asked softly, moving to her.
Ellen merely shook her head.
Running his hand down her hair, Robbie bent down to her level. “I’m going with my Dad to check on Kelly and the kids. Will you be O.K.?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll go downstairs while you’re gone.” She started to get up.
“El, Jenny is there. She can handle it.”
“Jenny is seventeen years old. I’ll go. They’re sleeping anyhow.” She grabbed Robbie’s arm and leaned against it as they walked from the bedroom. “Did Joe say how Stamford was?”
“Pete didn’t make it there. He started convulsing in the car and when Dad pulled over ... he died.”
“Oh.” Ellen clenched tighter to Robbie. “Any news of help for us? We have so many out there.”
“Yes. A doctor from the med station will be here today.”
“Thank God.” She started walking down the steps with Robbie.
“Then you can stay with the kids, El.” Robbie laid his lips to the top of her head. “You can stay with them like you want and should be.” He saw his father waiting by the door. “I’ll be back.”
Receiving a kiss on the cheek from Robbie, Ellen felt lost when she saw them leave. As the door opened, she could see Jenny making it across the front lawn. Ellen moved to the front door to watch her walking about the people. Seeing Joe and Robbie pull away, Ellen shut the door. She wanted to go to the kitchen, make some coffee, and prepare herself for another round of what laid just outside of her house, a hell that had built so severely in less than twenty-four hours.
<><><><>
June 1-7:15 am.
“Mrs. Callaway?” Jenny Holmes, the red haired, freckle faced, seventeen year old stood at the bottom of the steps when she saw Ellen walk down. Jenny, who brought her parents to Ellen’s for help, found herself volunteering, a duty she felt she had to do. She wasn’t sick. “How are they?”
Ellen shook her head and approached Jenny. “Josh is bad. He’s definitely entered the third stage.” Ellen reached up, removing Jenny’s hair from her face. “1 have him so drugged up. I can’t, I can’t take it anymore. A part of me wants to be with them and the other part of me doesn’t want to see what’s happening to them. It’ll be a nightmare I’ll live with forever.”
“All of this is a nightmare we’ll live with forever.”
With Jenny’s words, Ellen embraced the teenager into her arms --a hug of support for both of them. A hug that broke when her front door opened with vengeance and Robbie stormed in. “Robbie?”
Johnny Slagel raced forward from his grandfather’s arms straight to Ellen’s. He buried himself there.
Ellen saw the look on Joe’s face. She heard Robbie banging things in the kitchen. “Joe?” Ellen cradled Johnny. “What happened?”
Joe held up his hand to her. “I can’t talk about it. I have to stay busy.”
Ellen noticed something odd about Joe. He had been crying. “Joe, what happened please?”
Johnny’s head lifted to Ellen. “My mom died.”
Ellen’s eyes widened and her heart dropped. She ran her hand down Johnny’s face and pulled him to her. The banging from the kitchen was like a shock wave to the already emotional turmoil she was feeling. “How?” By the time she looked up, Joe had gone outside. Ellen lowered herself to Johnny’s eye level. “Johnny, sweetie, I’ll be right back.” She stood up. “Jenny, could you?”
“Sure, Mrs. Callaway.” Jenny took Johnny’s hand and brought him into the living room.
Folding her arms, Ellen walked to the kitchen. As she stepped in, she saw Robbie’s back. He stared out the back door to the hundreds of people lying side by side in Ellen’s backyard. He stood with his weight more on one leg as his hand rested on the back of his neck. “Robbie.” She laid her hand on his back. “Please tell me what happened.”
His voice was soft and raspy as he spoke. “She was weak, Ellen. She was so fuckin weak.”
“Robbie.”
With a slamming fist to the archway, Robbie turned to her. “How could she do this to my brother?”
“What are you talking about?”
“How will he face it?” Robbie’s face was red with anger. “How? It will be bad enough if he survives and he is on his way home, knowing that his children may have died of the virus. But how hard will it be for him to find out that they didn’t even have a chance to see if they could beat it. That his wife, his weak wife, killed them and then herself.” He saw Ellen step back in a stumble and fall almost into the island counter. “El.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Ellen spoke rapidly and faced the counter, leaning into it. “She didn’t do that. Tell me she didn’t do that.” She folded her arms and rested her head on them. “Frank. How’s he going to handle this? Robbie, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She began to cry.
Closing his eyes, he stepped to Ellen. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, Robbie held her tightly. “Don’t cry,” he spoke in a monotone. “You have to be strong, El.” His hand moved to her face, bracing her chin as his lips moved to her ear. “Right now, you have to be strong. When this horror is over, then you can let go. Right now, your children need to see you strong. That will make them strong.” He felt her resistance, her shaking head, and her tears as they hit his hand. “El.”
“I can’t, Robbie.”
“Yes you can.” He gripped tighter. “I’ll help you.”
<><><><>
June 1-10:10a.m.
Stamford, Connecticut
“Dean, explain to me why you are doing this.” The tall, gray, older gentleman, wearing a blood stained white coat, looked down to Dean. He towered over him.
“I don’t expect you to understand, Dad.” Dean stood behind the back of a fully loaded military truck. “It’s impossible to explain it to you myself. She needs my help.”
“Dean.”
William Hayes laid his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I came here to help you. You’re leaving me here. In this world now, Dino, a world that is moments from dying, I don’t want to lose contact with my son. It’s possible, it’s very possible, I’d never find you if that happened.”
“Exactly my point, Dad. I met her two days ago before we were aware of all this. I have never in my life felt so strongly about someone the moment I met them. And now, she’s alive. She isn’t even sick. She needs my help. I don’t want to lose contact with her. I’ll never find her in this world if I do. Besides …” Dean lowered the tarp. “Her children are dying, and she and two men are left to care for an entire town. Things are slowing down here. She needs me there.”
“Then I’ll go,” William told him. “Let me go. You can meet me there when you’re done here and …” He saw his son drastically shaking his head. “Dino, you are still on active duty. Listen to me.”
“Dad, I don’t have time.” Dean almost had to laugh. “What are they gonna do? Court martial me? I don’t think so. I checked with my assistant Molly, who’s still at the lab. I told her to shut down. I’ll return for all my stuff later. She’s too sick anyhow. I have it arranged for you to meet me in Ashtonville when it’s done here. You go directly there. I’ll wait for you.” Dean began to look around the med station where the truck was parked. He searched for him but he wasn’t hard to spot. He was one of three remaining health care workers, the only one immune to the virus, Henry, a maintenance worker from the hospital who was drafted--whether he liked it or not—to help care for the dying. “Henry” Dean called to him
Henry looked up from the patient then walked to Dean. “Yes, Dr. Hayes.”
“Dad, I’ve spoken to Henry. He’s going to help you get things ready to come to Ashtonville. Henry is going to come with you. Right, Henry? You’re still doing that aren’t you?” Dean asked him.
“Yes I am. Good luck there,” Henry told him. “You’d better hurry. The Marine who’s going with you is starting to get ill now. You’ll need protection on the highways.”
“Thanks, Henry.” Dean extended his hand to him. “I’ll see you with my father in Ashtonville.” Dean watched Henry run back to the patients and noticed the Marine getting into the truck. He faced his father. “I have to go. I’ll see you there.”
“I’m proud of you.” William embraced his son and opened the truck door for him. “And don’t run off. Stay put.”
With a smile and a nod that told William that he had no intentions of leaving Ashtonville, Dean jumped into the truck.
<><><><>
June 1-11:35 a.m.
Ashtonville, Connecticut
“Secure his head now!” Ellen’s voice carried out over all the moans and the cries that were starting to fill her once quiet street. From her chest, with emotion, she hollered as her body strapped itself the mid-section of a man twice her a size, a man who was convulsing as he lay on one of the few cots that Joe had set up. “God!” She fumbled with the syringe, a syringe that would deliver a final peace to the man.
Jenny tried to help but his head flung, showering her with projectile vomiting. “I can’t hold him.”
“Try!” Uncapping the syringe, the needle flew to the ground. “Jenny, get that... Joe!” Ellen called for his help as he set up the cots across the way. “Joe!
Joe looked up seeing the confusion and the struggle, and ran over.
Ellen climbed even more over the man’s body to hold him as Jenny quickly bent down to the ground for the syringe. Just when she saw Jenny’s hand reach up, holding the needle, the man’s body violently flung up, throwing Ellen back as the cot tipped over.
Joe was just in time. Running up behind Ellen, he caught her before she fell to the ground. He used his side to stop the man from falling on the grass below him.
Throwing herself forward again, Ellen took the syringe. Seconds before she was about to inject the man, he stopped moving and died. Giving a throaty low scream of frustration, Ellen shoved the cot, nearly toppling it again, and slammed the syringe into the chest of the man.
Joe chased her. “Ellen.”
“I have to go to my kids. Robbie’s been with them long enough.”
“Ellen, wait.” Joe grabbed her arm. “Just hold on a little bit more. Just hold on.”
“I can’t handle this, Joe. I fought with him for ten minutes and he died. He died anyhow. What’s the use? I couldn’t stop those last final moments of agony. He was one of ten in the last hour. Ten. Look around. The numbers are growing. How many people will face the last painful moments without our help? Too many. We should just let them go.”
“No.” Joe stopped her again. “Help is on the way. I swear to you.”
“Then what?” Ellen tilted her head and looked at him, her eyes shifting to Jenny who had taken the syringe that went unused and used it on another patient who began to the same stage. “I have to go be with my kids.”
Joe’s head dropped and he stood there, but only for a moment. He didn’t have time to stand there. He had to set up the cots and small tents he had gathered from around town and sporting stores. Watching Ellen go into the house, Joe returned to his work, taking only another second to see his grandson, Johnny. Johnny, despite his loss, did what he could do to also help out.
<><><><>
Sniffling loudly, Ellen ran the towel over her just washed face. She dried her hands and ran her fingers through her hair. Taking a deep breath, she opened her bedroom door to where Robbie and her children were. Stepping inside quietly, she saw Robbie. He held Taylor. Her tiny legs straddled across his waist, her arms weakly around his neck, and her head on his shoulder. Robbie held her, swaying slowly back and forth with his eyes closed, humming something to the whimpering little girl. Little Taylor looked so lost against Robbie.
Hearing Ellen, he looked up. “She was calling for her dad.”
Ellen swallowed harshly. “Have you given her anything lately?”
“Yeah. It should kick in any second.”
“How about Josh?” Ellen moved to her son who lay on his side. His body trembled.
Robbie nodded his head and carried Taylor to the bed also. He laid her down, covering her with ‘her blanket’. “El …” He looked at her so saddened as she stared at Josh. “I’ll help you wipe them down now.”
“Thanks, Robbie.”
“I’ll get the cloths.” Running his hand through his hair, he looked once more at Ellen then left to get the wet clothes from the bathroom.
Holding back her tears, Ellen pulled the quilt from Josh. She laid her hand on his shoulder. His body was so tense from shaking it took all her strength to straighten out his legs. As she rolled him on his back, his blue eyes popped open in a frightening manner. His head arched back and one loud, gasping wheeze came from him. Suddenly he fought with everything he had to breathe. Scooping her arms under him in a panic, Ellen cried out. “Robbie!”
He heard her cry through the running water.
Dropping the cloth and turning off the faucet, Robbie raced into the bedroom to see Ellen struggling with all her might to hold her son in her arms, a son who fought for his breath as his body shook. Her one arm was under his head and her other fought to hold onto his legs.
“Robbie, his asthma,” she called out, dropping her arm and reaching into the night stand.
Robbie rushed to her and stood behind her. His arms became Ellen’s as he held on to Josh for her, keeping him close to his mother as she tried to get him to respond to the inhalator.
“Josh,” Ellen cried. “Come on, sweetie.” She cried over his wheezing. “Josh.”
With one more long gasp, Josh’s head fell back across her and Robbie’s arms and he became lifeless.
“No!” Ellen cried out.
Robbie felt her arms release. He tightly held Ellen up as her knees began to give away.
He saw her place her mouth to Josh’s in an attempt to revive him. “El,” he spoke nearly in a whisper. “Let him go. Don’t.” Reaching up hi
s fingers, he closed Josh’s eyes which stared blankly out. He lifted the boy’s tilted head to rest against Ellen.
“Robbie, he’s gone.” Emotional and tearful, she cried. “He’s gone.” Her head pressed back against Robbie as she held onto Josh. “Robbie …” She called his name as if she were calling for help. Her body began to tremble as she sobbed. “My son is gone.”
Robbie closed his eyes and held tightly to Ellen, controlling his emotions. That was all he could do.
<><><><>
Joe tried to be compassionate as he attended to the helpless woman before him. As he rolled her onto her side, he heard the sound of a truck. Looking up he saw the military truck pull up and stop at the edge of the people. “It’s about time,” he sighed in relief, leaving the woman’s side. “Jenny, I’ll be right back.” Joe ran to the vehicle that stopped five houses away and saw the young doctor from the med station. His shoulders dropped in relief as Dean stepped from the driver’s seat. “You… you really did come.”
Dean looked around the street. “Holy shit, is this the whole town.”
Joe shook his head. “Not even a dent yet.”
Dean kept peering around. “I brought supplies but the Marine I came with got sick halfway here.” His eyes searched.
“I’ll start unloading it. Thank you so much for coming. But before we unload, I’d like to tell the woman, who’s been handling this, that you’re here. She’s in the house.”
Quickly Dean’s head jolted in panic. “She’s not sick is she?”
“No, she’s with her children. I’ll be back.”
“Joe.” Dean reached out and grabbed his arm. “I’d like to tell her I’m here. Can I?”
Taken somewhat aback, Joe hesitated before responding. “Sure. Her house is five up. Go in, top of the steps to your left.”
“Thank you.” Quickly Dean raced across the lawns, zig zagging through the patients, stepping over those who lay on the grass. He raced inside Ellen’s house. It was quiet when he opened the doors. With a strong beating heart he took the steps. As he reached the top and turned, he saw Robbie holding a towel and reaching for the bedroom door.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 450